Sunday, July 29, 2012

Chasing Happy

With way too much time on my hands I find myself chasing happiness the way that you try to focus on a floater. You know how the little tricksters jump to a new spot when you try to look right at one of them? I got to be something of a master at blue. No future there.

Now I obsess over the past and worry about missed opportunity and fret over any impurities in my heart. My dog and I spend far too much time in the great state of anxious. She worries that I'm gonna leave the house. I don't know what I worry about. 

I'm open to suggestion here.


  1. Ronny, this is probably gonna sound trite, maybe a bit too philosophical, and probably downright crazy at times, so I apologize ahead of it and hope you'll forgive me.

    You are about as authentic as anyone I know. I’ve secretly admired that about you since shortly after you left Noah’s Ark, though I didn’t know why at the time. Then one night, a few years later, I was watching Duckbutter at some little bar on Dale Mabry, a little north of Kennedy, when I was hit by an Aha! moment. I remember thinking, “This guy is the real deal.” While most of the rest of us were still trying to come off as cool, beneath all the craziness, down where it gets real, your heart was about the music. And that’s why you’re still doing it, 40+ years later. It’s pretty much who you are. I know. Once I figured it out, I can’t set it down for long either.

    Music gets in your blood, a beautiful addiction that just won’t let you go. It’s like air or food or water - a basic necessity. Without a certain amount of it, there is suffering. And at this level of commitment, it’s impossible to separate it from self. It’s part of our definition. It’s what makes us crazy. And keeps us sane. And reminds us that, as flawed as we are, there is something pure and whole deep inside us, something that we keep locked up, that is always trying to get out. Gratefully, it sometimes escapes long enough to feed us a bit of hope. And to remind us to forgive our frequent trespasses and not judge ourselves too harshly.

    Though there are probably exceptions, much of what I’ve heard from you as a solo artist is tinged with darkness and pain. Nothing wrong with that on the surface. Fertile ground to be explored, for sure. And you do it really well. But (and here’s where it gets a little philosophical), what we put our attention on the most is what we become. And, as that vibe gathers around us, word spreads and more of it shows up. People are drawn, for their own reasons, and they begin to expect that dark, insightful edge. And it slowly surrounds you. Life begins to imitate art. Like I said, hard to separate.

    So, before I get too carried away, waxing philosophical, here’s my suggestion. Take your guitar and your dog, go into a dark room, away from the all expectations, throw open a window or two, and write a hopeful, happy song, one that tells the true story of what you REALLY want. You don’t have to play it for anybody except for you, though you might choose to, just because. It’ll probably piss some people off, especially if they are expecting the familiar dark. But the prospect of pissing somebody off never held you back before. Anyway, if hope is fading, it’s certainly worth a try. And who knows, maybe happy will start chasing you. ;^)

  2. I agree, and very well said. It works like the power of positive thinking. But backwards too. Sounds like a great excersize, the quiet room and happy and all. Be well friend...